


You've got red on you

by mishaphappens



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood and Torture, Character Turned Into Vampire, Gen, Torturer Dean, Vampire Dean Winchester, Vampire Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-20
Updated: 2014-09-20
Packaged: 2018-02-18 02:52:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2332583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mishaphappens/pseuds/mishaphappens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Sam will not allow Dean to hurt them anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You've got red on you

**Title** : You've got red on you  
 **Author** : [](http://mishaphappens.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://mishaphappens.livejournal.com/)**mishaphappens**  
 **Rating** : R  
 **Wordcount** : 1,377  
 **Summary** : AU. Sam will not allow Dean to hurt them anymore.  
 **Notes** : Title from "Shaun of the Dead". Based on a dream I had. Unbeta'ed. I like how Sam speaks in this. The End! :D  
 **Disclaimer** : Don't own. Except that branch. That branch is mine.

Sam watched Dean, the frustrated bunch in his shoulders, as he weaved through the shocked on-lookers. No one noticed him, the blood stains on his jacket and fingers. Sam trailed after him, at a safe distance, and listened to the sobs of the girl behind them. Sam could still see the runes cut into her skin, over her face; the cuts were deep enough to scar. Even when they would heal, she would still see them, be reminded of this night, every time she looked in the mirror. Every time she would meet someone new, they would wonder what happened and she would have to feel their pitied stare when she told them.

Maybe it would have been better to let Dean bleed her dry. More merciful.

The Vegas lights were bright as they exited the casino hotel. The weather was hot and damp; the smell of greasy food mixing in from a food cart. So many visitors brushed past them; easy pickings, no one would know what happened to them. Except Sam. Sam always remembered their faces and where Dean dumped them. Men stood around on the sides, slapping paper against their palms to get people's attention; Sam and Dean knew better, ignored them effortlessly. They'd been in this city for a long time.

Dean stomped back to Caesar's Palace. People ooh'ed and aww'ed around them at the sight, but Dean didn't even look up from the ground. Inside there was a car show; pristine, glistening car models for next year sat on podiums. It drew many tourists to look at cars they could or could not afford. The People liked that, surrounded the humans, and picked out the ones who would be easiest to sway, who wouldn't make too much of a fuss. The People watched Dean enter, let him part with frayed respect; They smelled how on edge he was. They watched Sam too, but in a different way. They knew Sam would keep Them safe. They looked at Dean with feared respect and They eyed Sam with reverent adoration. Both brothers unattainable and dangerous.

Dean got in the elevator, his lips tight with anger, but he waited for Sam. They stood side by side in the small box; no one joined them, even though there were many people mingling to go to their hotel rooms. These humans valued self-preservation. When the doors closed, Sam backed away from Dean to the other side and waited.

He didn't have to wait long.

"Why?" Dean gritted out.

Sam sighed softly and let his head rest on the wall.

"You are losing your focus, Dean."

"I need to do this," he replied and Sam believed him. It's what scared him.

"I understand," Sam said, gently. "But torturing them is not an option."

Dean's fists clenched and released at his sides. He was staring at the buttons in the elevator, but his eyes were unfocused. He was looking back on that girl, reliving the experience. The tense line of his shoulders eased a bit and a smile touched his pale lips.

"You should try it."

"No."

"Sammy," Dean breathed. "The way she screamed..."

"Stop it." Sam closed his eyes and saw Dean bent over the girl, the bed sheets streaked with blood, as she curled away from Dean's sharp nails. Her tears had turned to hiccups, unable to breathe around her panic. Dean's eyes, always so cruel nowadays, had softened to fondness. He loved what this girl was doing for him; letting him hurt something because he was unable to hurt himself.

Sam opened his eyes, firmed his resolve. Dean was watching him, green eyes cold and calculating. He was planning his verbal attack so that it would hurt Sam the most.

"I will not allow this behavior any longer," Sam said. Dean's eyebrow arched in reply, as if to say, _How do you plan to stop me?_

The doors dinged and opened and Sam exited first. He looked down both ways of the hallway; no humans should disturb them as this floor was reserved specifically to the People. And They should be wise enough to not disturb them.

"Dean," Sam said as his brother stood directly behind him. "You may hurt me, if that's what you need."

Dean's breath hitched. "What?"

"I cannot stop you from killing," Sam replied, staring hard at the beige wall. "I know this. But I cannot allow you to draw attention to yourself, for you to endanger all of us. If you need something to hurt, you may hurt me."

Sam heard Dean approach slowly and press himself against Sam's back. Dean's face rested on Sam's spine, pressing in.

"I don't want to hurt _you_ ," he said.

"I know," Sam replied, but his voice was firm; Dean needed to know he didn't have many options. Either he took his frustrations out on Sam or Sam will stop him at every turn.

"I'm hungry," Dean whispered.

"We will order some room service," Sam said and moved away to their room. Dean followed after a moment.

:::

The man that came to their room was an older gentlemen. Sam briefly scanned his fingers for a ring, his pockets for a wallet full of pictures of loved ones, but found nothing. Dean waited for Sam to be done, barely restraining an eye roll. Dean did not care for such things, not anymore. Sam would not allow himself to forget.

"All right," Sam said and moved aside. The man was deeply under, as Sam requested. He smiled at Dean when he approached, even opened his arms. Dean laughed as his fangs grew, stepping in.

"Join me," he requested. Sam hesitated, but knew he would need the strength. His gums ached as he let his fangs out and stepped around to the other side. Dean smirked at him, letting his teeth graze the human's skin. He sighed pleasantly between them.

It was Sam who bit in first, gently, right into the muscle of the man's shoulder. Sam's favorite spot, because it was tender there and most humans didn't notice at first, so used to pain always being there. Dean was not so gentle; he ripped right into the man's throat hungrily and precious blood slipped down his neck and chest. The man didn't scream; in fact, he groaned, his dick getting hard. Dean rubbed the human's crotch as he drank. Sam could feel the arousal in both men from the connection, tasted memories as he sipped. Dean's tasted like ash and fire, while the man tasted of hard work and loneliness. He did not like such humans; he liked to drink from girls who knew nothing of heartache, from men who always looked for fun. Their blood always tasted the best and Sam liked to leave them alive with headaches. But Dean...he liked to kill them and he hated those who are the most happy.

Sam broke away first, hated the taste of life leaving; Dean finished the man off, still rubbing his hard cock even as he went limp. Dean let him drop at the last possible second and he closed his eyes in reverence, swaying on his feet.

Sam moved away and took up a knife. It was probably best to do this when Dean was at his most happy. It would hurt less.

With no preamble, Sam stabbed the corpse right through the heart. Dean watched with heavy lidded eyes, questioning.

"I know you like to see them bleed," Sam said. He pulled the knife out and it glistened, so dark it was almost black. He stood up and offered the knife to Dean. "So that I won't heal too quickly for you."

Dean blinked slowly, staring at the knife. Sam could see how much he wanted it and how that want made him hate himself more.

"What if I don't stop?" Dean asked. Sam tried not to laugh at the absurd question. Dean would never do him such a service and leave himself alone in this ugly world.

"You will," Sam answered. He motioned to the knife again and this time, Dean took it. He sighed heavily, eyes slipping closed.

"Thank you."

"You're my brother," Sam said. "I will do anything for you."

Dean smiled sadly. "I know."

And the knife swung forward.

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